Re: Round 1: “COOL” Cancer Jiles vs. The True Face
[The time for over-excessive hype is over.]
[Round one of the no adjective needed ULTRATITLE Tournament is officially underway.]
“Hello ULTRATITLE. I’m... well, I am the COOL.”
[Indeed the silk-shirt, pressed slacks and snakeskin shoe donning, mean mug smirching, highly touted Defiant upstart from Philadelphia is.]
“There-there, my treasure. Soon... you’ll be in a good a place.”
[After a huge breath and a charcoal snot-rocket later, Cancer Jiles finishes gearing up for battle by dropping in the last piece of his picture perfect jigsaw puzzle.]
[With a casual preciseness, The Mongoloid Slayer shakes the air out of his precious golden-blond hair, and places a pair of double patented, bulletproof/mirror lensed, jet-black framed, eye encompassing Terminator ULTRATITLE edition sunglasses upon his clean shaven face.]
Much like everything else I do, it all starts right here... inside the tantalizing confines of my second home.
[Cancer’s referring to the cell-sized Defiance Promo Boof he’s currently occupying. The often sullied joint has a Defiance banner spanning across the back wall, and a plastic fern butting up in the corner.]
[I know, not very flashy.]
[Then again, when the man taking residence is wearing a shirt that has more colors than a decked out Christmas tree, it doesn’t really have to be now does it?]
Go on, take the place in. Feel free to make yourself comfortable with the lavish surroundings.
[Motioning about as if he were a real estate agent, Cancer shows off the aforementioned room’s amenities. He nudges the fern with his foot, and then takes a playful waft at the Defiance banner.]
Cancer Jiles: [coming back to center]
Now that you’ve been acclimated, we can talk a little bit about who I am, and what I think about this grand Tournament which seems to be all the rave these days.
[King COOL ain’t kidding. Damn ULTRATITLE is even giving sliced bread a run for its money.]
If you didn’t know, or happened to live underneath a rock, or do not own a radio...
I’m the man your momma warned you about.
The one who after hearing, leaves you in no doubt.
I’m the COOLEST cat to have ever crip-walked this Earth.
I’ve been the COOLEST since the day of my birth.
[With his chest all puffed out, Cancer proudly jabs at his heart using only his index finger.]
I. AM. THE. COOL.
[That was a shout out to recording artist, Screamin Jay Hawkins. He’s one of Cancer’s idols, if not his only idol. Jay wrote Cancer’s entrance music, too. Whether or not you believe it was intended for Cancer is up to you.]
You might be wondering how that equates to being a spectacular wrestler who’s been called nothing short of supernatural while inside a wrestling ring.
Just know that it does.
[An athletic background and years of experience help as well. More so than anything else though, is the wealth of knowledge on how to cheat in plain site and get away with it.]
[Also, Cancer is misusing the way he was quoted as being supernatural inside a wrestling ring. The reference wasn’t in regard to his talent, rather it was the exact opposite. What the quote said was “it’s almost supernatural how a wrestler of such limited mat ability is able to win matches on a consistent basis.”.]
[See, he’s human.]
[Even if the shades say otherwise.]
Anyway, when I first heard about this tourney, to tell you the truth I didn’t know what to think.
I’ve only heard whispers about these types of events before.
That said, imagine you were me -- shouldn’t be too hard since you’ve been doing it ever since I said the word “Much” -- and the euphoria of the ULTRATITLE has you riding highs that you haven’t experienced since Robo-tripping back in High School.
You’re uber excited. You are... extremely stoked. You are ready to conquer all, and slay the toughest of Mongoloids that this world -- or the next -- has ever seen.
After all the build up.
After all the chest pounding, and promotional bits, and zippity-doo-dah.
...the brackets are finally revealed.
[Insert dramatic pause.]
Let me just say this about that.
[Insert another dramatic pause.]
Willy Wonka contacted me.
He wanted to know how I got my hands on a golden ticket.
[A watermelon engulfing poop-grin takes over the High Chief of COOL’s face.]
I told him, Will, I’m Cancer focking Jiles. The Mongoloid Slayer. I have a Masters degree in being COOL, I AM a golden ticket.
Then I hung up on him.
[Yeah, and Cancer hasn’t stopped having nightmares about killer Oompa Loompa’s since.]
On a more serious note, the Count of COOLSYLVANIA must admit that winning the title of epic Ultratude would truly be awesome. Being the best out of a hundred and twenty-eight others is something that even I could hang my shades on.
[When did Modest Mouse start playing?]
I mean, who cares if the field has more moth than bounce in their balls?
[Ahhh. I see what he did there. The old fliparoo.]
I sure as fock don’t.